Our Choices Seal Our Fate
by floorplanhobo
Summary: Cas is still the same, but not really. (End!verse, drabble)


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural, sigh. Title belongs to Mumford & Sons.

**A/N:** Dedicated to Anna and Autumn. End!verse is my favorite verse, and I wrote this drabble because... I don't really know, ha.

**xxxx**

Cas is still the same, but not really.

He moves differently now, a stealth-filled creature, his grin pronounced and fake. Like a cat.

Dean smiles to himself, bitterly so, when he remembers old Cas' fondness for cats. He observes Cas as the former angel talks to the rest of the crew, all smiles and exaggerated hand movements. People are enthralled by him, staring at Cas like he's the second coming of Jesus. They are laughing, flirting, touching.

Dean doesn't like it, but there is nothing he can do about. He continues to clean his gun while Cas starts telling some of his end-of-the-world jokes, and the crowd loses it.

Old Cas attempted to make jokes, and failed miserably at it. This Cas makes good jokes; dirty, tasteless, and people laugh uneasily at them.

Dean clears his throat, and Cas looks back at him. His blue eyes are dulled by the myriad of drugs in his system, and he offers Dean a weak smile. He excuses himself from the crowd and walks over to Dean, in such a human-like way that makes Dean incredibly upset.

Because Cas chose to stay. And lost everything because of his decision to be loyal to Dean.

"So, fearless leader," grins Cas seductively, his voice raspy and dark. "Why are you all cooped up in the corner? I might talk some of the girls into coming back to the cabin with me. I'm all for sharing..."

"Pass," says Dean dryly, focused on cleaning his gun.

Cas makes a clicking sound with his tongue, knowing that this particular sound drives Dean insane, but he doesn't stop. Dean looks up, enraged, and glares at Cas.

"_Stop being such a fucking dick,_" snarls Dean.

"I'm sorry, are you pmsing today?" teases Cas, leaning in, his face inches away from Dean's. "Want me to shove a tampon up your ass? Oh, I forgot, you don't like that sort of thing-

"Fuck you, _Castiel," _blurts Dean furiously as he stands up. People stop talking to look at them, and the silence in the room is almost deafening.

Cas seems affronted by Dean's sudden desire to use his full name, but recovers almost immediately. He shows Dean the finger and walks off, rejoining some of the startled girls in the group. Dean is breathing heavily, and he can't stand to stay in the room anymore.

**xxxxx**

Whiskey is a luxury now, but Dean is drinking it like water as he stares at the star-less sky. It seems empty and vast, and he is filled with a sudden helplessness that gnaws at his insides, the pain almost unbearable. He misses Sam a whole fucking lot, but he can't give the kid a call, can he?

He's gone.

Dean drinks more, the burning in his throat blurring some of the pain, and he sighs. His sigh is so loud that he wonders if someone heard it, and if they will consider it a weakness.

"I heard it."

Dean turns around, and Cas is standing there, a sheepish look on his face. The jacket he is wearing is light years away from the trenchcoat he used to wear, and Dean doesn't understand why he is feeling so goddamn nostalgic.

"Fuck off, Cas," says Dean sadly, and leans against the wall.

But Cas doesn't fuck off, of course he doesn't. He walks over to Dean and takes the spot next to him, also leaning against the wall, their shoulders almost touching. Dean listens to the sound of Cas searching in his pockets for something, something that will numb the pain. The acrid smell of weed fills Dean's nostrils, and he wants some, but he chooses not to ask.

Cas doesn't offer it, anyway, and he just smokes in silence. They stare at the sky, and Dean slowly slides down until he is sitting on the dirt. He places the almost-empty bottle next to him, and Cas follows him all the way down, following as he always does.

"I know you miss him," mutters Cas.

"Yeah," breathes Dean, tears stinging his eyes.

"You have me," coughs Cas, and then groans loudly as he drops his joint. "Fuck it, five second rule."

Dean watches Cas start smoking again, the smoke slowly escaping his lips. It had never been so painfully obvious that Cas isn't an angel anymore.

"I have to go," says Dean hurriedly, trying to stand up. He drank way too much, because he's wobbly as shit, and he feels incredibly dizzy.

"I got you," says Cas, standing up at the speed of light, grabbing Dean by the arm. Dean looks at him, eyes wide and defeated, and the memories come rushing back.

_Cas giving him a nervous smile, both of them drunk as hell..._

_Cas stumbling, and Dean grabbing him close..._

"_Hey, Cas. I got you."  
_

_Fingers over the trenchcoat, Cas' hands on Dean's collar... _

_Lips, lips, stubble, lips... _

Their first and last kiss. Dean never talked about it because he was too fucking scared, because he deemed it a mistake. Cas never brought it up either, but became a bit distant after the incident.

"Ha," muses Cas, and Dean knows he is thinking about the same thing.

"Cas, look-" slurs Dean, but is interrupted by Cas' mouth on his, needy, warm, intoxicating. Dean kisses him back, balance be damned, and pushes him against the wall. Cas' hands are everywhere, and so are Dean's, and they stay like this for what seems an eternity, searching for something that they will never find.

"No," gasps Cas, and pushes Dean away.

"Cas," starts Dean. "I'm sorry."

Cas stares at him for a long time, just like he used to back in the day. But there is no blatant affection in his eyes anymore. Cas is giving off the same vibe he did when he visited Dean at Bobby's and demanded respect. He might not be an angel anymore, but he still manages to look scary.

For some reason, they are back at square one. They have given everything for each other, but somehow the meaning of that was lost along the way to the end of the world. They're no longer best friends, or whatever they were, now they're only comrades in battle. It's over.

"Fuck this," snorts Dean, and starts walking away.

"Dean," calls Cas, his voice laced with pain. "I'm sorry too." And for one moment, Dean lets himself belief that the old Cas is back. God, please let him be back.

"But this is how it's supposed to be, fearless leader. You should know that by now."

Dean's wish dies in his throat, and he walks away, fast, sorrowful, destroyed.

So yeah, Cas is still the same. But not really.


End file.
